


In Dreams, In Technicolor

by pyrrhical (anoyo)



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, PWP, Z laughed at me, my very first attempt at actual porn, went about as well as most first attempts go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-12
Updated: 2009-08-12
Packaged: 2018-10-09 22:38:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10423371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoyo/pseuds/pyrrhical
Summary: Ed doesn't often dream of home. He doesn't often dream of sex, either.My very first smut. Be gentle.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written 8/12/09. This was to see if I could write smut. I still have no idea if I can write smut.
> 
> Reviews, even intensely negative ones, would be helpful.

Edward Elric did not often dream of home. He knew, consciously and subconsciously, that he was lucky to have his brother beside him. Wishing for anything more was greed, and Edward had had almost all he could take of the deadly sins. Perhaps he no longer deserved heaven, but he was not prepared to create for himself another living hell. No, Edward did not often dream of home.

Nor did he often dream of sex. Psychologically, Edward was one of the best and worst adjusted men he knew. In his life, he was not prepared to hold true to any sort of romantic long-term relationship. When he felt desire or frustration, he found a bed partner who met his current interests, and sated his need. He was an attractive young man, and startlingly sure of himself. That kind of surety was alluring, intoxicating. When Edward desired someone, it was rare that he could not have them. Edward was not a frivolous man, and he did not waste his energies pining after those he could not have, or those who were unattainable. It was a pointless and unnecessary endeavor, which, like his calm about returning to his home, was something he both consciously and subconsciously recognized. With his needs met, Edward did not often dream of sex.

When he dreamed, no matter the content, it was always vividly, with colors, sounds, tastes, and smells as close to reality as his mind could fabricate. Sometimes, when he woke the following morning, it took him several moments to place the dream as something outside of reality, for all it seemed just as real as anything his memory could supply. Sometimes, but not this time.

Above almost all else, Edward was a creature of reason, driven in life by intellectual goals and ambitions. In his dreams, as vividly close to reality as they could be, Edward could be none other than himself, a complete iteration, with all his logic and reason intact. He knew that this dream, vivid as any other, was just that, a dream, from the impossibility it presented. It might have been a memory, but certain changes had been made that erased that feasibility.

Only for mere moments had Edward known Roy Mustang with an eye patch, and they were certainly not long enough, nor were they private enough, for him to have ever had sex with that Roy Mustang. The impossibility said, as clearly as if it had spoken aloud, that it could only be a dream. 

Edward knew it was a dream, but that changed nothing.

He was in a bedroom he didn't recognize. He couldn't place it as existing on one side of the gate versus another, though that was hardly relevant. He was as himself, neither older nor younger, dressed in the British vest and overcoat he had adopted. Roy was as he had last seen him: black eye patch, age lines Edward only barely remembered taking note of. The only difference, in fact, was his casual attire of plain black slacks, a long-sleeve, soft cream shirt, no socks. The comfortable appearance told Edward, with his mind and his logic, that this must be Roy's home. 

The sun was setting and there was a comfortable silence in the room. Edward was comfortable, despite the lack of familiarity.

A lingering stillness gave Edward the impression that, no matter what kind of dream this was, and he knew, it was a dream that he could control. He said, "You look comfortable," a wry smile on his face, and he meant it.

A soft chuckle was Roy's first response, a noise that seemed as comfortable as the man who had produced it. "I am," was Roy's reply. He took two steps into Edward's personal space, his arms lifting to slide his fingers under the jacket Edward was wearing, pushing it softly over and off his shoulders. "You should try it," he continued, a soft smirk in place. 

Edward laughed. "As long as there are no expectations of results, I'll try all you like," he said, shrugging the jacket the rest of the way off, letting it crumple to the carpet beneath him. He reached up, between where Roy's arms were still resting their weight on his shoulders, and unbuttoned his vest. Roy continued the gesture, sliding it back over his shoulders in the same manner he had Edward's jacket. The vest fell atop Edward's jacket. 

Sliding his hands to the top buttons of Edward's shirt, Roy said, "Let me know if you'd like any help with that. I am, after all, obviously a successful example." He unfastened the top button, letting his hands continue on to the next, his knuckles dragging lightly down the line of Edward's sternum.

"A man knows how to ask for help," Edward said, deftly unfastening his cufflinks. "So I ask, in recognition of your authority on the topic, would you like to help me get comfortable?" He dropped his hands back to his sides once both wrists were free, looking up at Roy in a way he hoped was solemn, and not at all revealing of his entertainment.

Apparently, his hopes didn't matter. Roy laughed aloud as he undid the final button on Edward's shirt, tugging it free of his pants and pushing it back off his shoulders, letting his hands guide it all the way off, fingers trailing down Edward's arms as Roy thoroughly claimed his personal space. "I'd love to," he said, voice harsher, dropping the game. As soon as Edward's shirt was removed, Roy brought one hand over Edward's hip and up the line of his back, dragging him into bodily contact. The other hand he lifted to curve around Edward's skull, just below the line of his jaw and into his hair. "Do you know what else I'd like to do?" he asked, breath ghosting warmly across Edward's skin, his mouth centimeters away from Edward's own.

Leaving his arms limply at his sides, Edward stared frankly up, letting his mouth curl into a smile as he replied, "I've got a pretty good idea."

"Yeah?" Roy asked, not moving. "What would that be?"

Edward raised one eyebrow, affecting a thoughtful look. "Would you like short- or long-term desires?"

Roy snorted. "Both."

"Well," Edward said, "right now, you'd really like to kiss me. When you've done that, or maybe _while_ you're doing that, you'll want to pull me harder against you. As lovely a gesture as that is, once you've made it, all you'll really want is me naked on that bed. You'd prefer that with the blankets pulled down, but you'll take however we get there." A smile ran back across his lips. "How am I doing?"

Roy's eyes, dilated and warm, were mixed with both mirth and a more carnal sentiment. "Pretty well so far. Though, for long-term, you haven't gone quite so long as I'm sure you could."

"No," Edward said. "I thought you'd want to hear what I think you want me to do, while you're wanting to do all that."

"I want I hadn't even noticed. Go on."

Edward felt his chest rumble in a slight chuckle, though whether it was his or Roy's chuckle, he couldn't be certain. "When you kiss me, you'll want me to use my arms to pull you closer." He brought his hands up to Roy's hips, resting them there lightly. "When you pull me harder against you, you'll want me to roll my hips against you, then slide one hand up the back of your shirt. To get me naked on that bed, you'll want me to turn us around, walk you backwards until you're lying down, and unzip my pants, kneeling on either side of your hips." Edward's fingers traced a slow, light circle. "Have I gotten anywhere, yet?"

Fingers clenched slightly in Edward's hair. "You should be. It's your dream," Roy said, voice deeper, words heavier.

"Of course it is," Edward said, a slow smile on his lips. "What I want," he continued, letting his breath come heavier, "is what you want."

"What I would want," Roy said. A moment passed, then Roy's mouth was pressed against Edward's, hard and soft. Roy's arms pressed Edward harder against him, and Edward rolled his hips into the contact, groaning open-mouthed as he did so. He dragged his hands up Roy's back as Roy used Edward's groan to slip his tongue along the inside of Edward's lip. 

The pressure continued, Roy's mouth against his, Roy's tongue against his teeth and tongue, before Edward's hold slipped as he brought his hands to the back hem of Roy's shirt, sliding them underneath and against soft flesh and harder muscle. He broke the kiss and used a slide of his hips to step between Roy's legs and pivot, turning them around. Three slow, joint steps took them to the edge of the end of the bed; a subtle leaning forward had Roy sitting on the bed, using his arms to slide himself further up the mattress, so his legs hung off the end only from his knees down. 

He looked, leaning back on his elbows on the bed before Edward, breath coming faster and clearly aroused through the disheveled clothing he was still wearing, like a man whose choices had been made. He looked as Edward remembered him, assured and startlingly honest, even now, in an almost violating dream.

Leaning forward, Edward put his hands on the bed on either side of Roy, levering himself down to crawl until his knees were straddling Roy's hips. He sat up, then, and unzipped his pants. His only warning was Roy sitting up practically beneath him, hands coming to join Edward's at his waist. Roy's hands undid Edward's belt, sliding it from his belt loops and dropping it on the floor. They came to rest around Edward's waist as Edward undid the button of his loosened pants, falling ever lower on his hips.

Before he could slide them the rest of the way off his hips, Roy used the leverage he had with his feet still on the ground and lifted Edward, spinning them in order to pin him to the bed. Roy released Edward's waist, then, and brought his hands up to hold his weight on either side of Edward's head. "What do you want?" Roy asked, looking down at him.

Edward answered effortlessly, with words that Roy, as a product of his own mind, would already know were coming: "I want you to fuck me."

Magic words; a key phrase. Roy dropped his weight lower, balancing on one forearm still to the side of Edward's head, the other hand gliding down to the top of Edward's pants and underclothes, pushing both down over his ass, grabbing them to pull them the rest of the way off his legs once they were past. He leaned down to kiss Edward at the same moment as he moved his knees, supporting most of his weight, to between Edward's legs. 

Slipping his hands underneath Roy's shirt, it was the work of seconds to slide it up and over Roy's head. Roy sat up to tug it off completely and Edward's hands went to the button and zipper of his pants, having both undone as Roy's shirt hit the floor. As he pulled his pants the rest of the way off, Roy sat back far enough to tug off Edward's socks, leaving them both completely naked.

There had been enough foreplay; as Roy leaned forward again to kiss the underside of Edward's jaw, one of his hands ghosted over Edward's abdomen to circle around his cock, tightening and pulling twice. Edward groaned as Roy traced open-mouthed kisses and swipes of his tongue down Edward's neck and across his collar. Edward wound his hands into Roy's hair and tugged lightly. "Get _on_ with it," Edward breathed, moving his thighs farther apart and around Roy's waist. 

Roy's hand left Edward's cock, moving back up his abdomen and over his chest, fingers coming to rest on Edward's lips. Edward parted his lips and Roy moved up again to kiss the soft place where Edward's jaw met his skull, flicking his tongue against the skin as he slipped three fingers into Edward's mouth. Sliding his tongue around Roy's fingers, Edward tightened legs around Roy's waist, bringing Roy's erection down and against his own in a rough, almost painful motion. Roy let out a breath against his neck and his fingers slid slowly out and back into Edward's mouth, a movement he mimicked with his hips. 

The fingers slipped completely out of Edward's mouth after a moment and disappeared out of his vision, giving away their presence seconds later as they slipped a wet trail from Edward's balls to his rectum. There Roy paused only long enough to position himself better, forward further on the arm next to Edward's head, a kiss to Edward's mouth coercing him into turning his face to Roy's. 

First one finger, then two, then three pressed into Edward, stretching slickly, before brushing against Edward's prostate and pulling his attention away from the clumsy, open-mouthed kisses he was sharing with Roy. He gasped and Roy's tongue traced his bottom lip, his fingers repeating the motion that had brought them into contact with Edward's prostate. 

After a few moments, Roy slipped his fingers out and up along Edward's side, leaving a damp trail. Roy's thumb along his jaw was direction enough for Edward to turn his head, licking a thick stripe down the center of Roy's palm before taking his fingers back into his mouth. This time, when Roy removed his fingers from Edward's mouth, he removed his weight from his other forearm and sat slightly. Free to do so, Edward watching as Roy took hold of his own cock and stroked it twice, as he'd done to Edward's, letting the saliva and pre-come mix to coat it with slick moisture. 

With one hand still on his cock, Roy spread his knees farther apart, the motion spreading Edward's legs at the same time. He grasped Edward's thigh with his free hand, pushing it back toward Edward's chest and positioning his cock at the entrance to Edward's ass. Roy pushed forward and in with as little warning as he had given all throughout, and Edward could feel himself stretching, both painfully and pleasantly.

Roy let himself rest there for a moment before pulling back and pushing back in, slowly, angling his cock as he'd done his fingers earlier, to brush against Edward's prostate. He leaned forward, kissing Edward on the mouth and bending him almost double over himself. He pulled out and pushed back in, again, building a rhythm, brushing against Edward's prostate with each stroke in. 

Edward let himself go into the steady, building sensation. As Roy's thrusts became faster, less stable, Roy's hand found Edward's cock and began to stroke him in time to Roy's own movement. One, last erratic motion, and Edward came--

Awake, tangled, and sweating, in his own bed. His heartbeat struggled to steady itself for a few moments, until Edward had reasserted reality. As his breathing slowed, his skin cooled, and Edward felt the sweat on his skin turn cold.

Edward Elric did not often dream of home, nor did he often dream of sex. They were both things about which his mind rarely felt the need to remind him. He liked to believe, when he took the time to consciously do so, that this meant he was satisfied and living his life, not merely existing.

Edward did not often wake alone in a cold, dark room, smelling of sex and covered in a cold sweat. He did not often breathe filled with a painful ache that had nothing to do with sexual desire. 

When he did, it was a long time before he fell back asleep, and longer still until he could remember that it was not often that he felt that way. That, truly, he accepted his life, lived his life, and had accepted that regret was something that changed nothing, only unnecessarily pulling him down.

"Not often" was not "never," but it was, still, often enough.

Edward rolled over, closed his eyes, and went back to sleep.

He did not often dream of home, nor did he often dream of sex, and he did neither again that night.


End file.
